Attics and Family Trees

My son has a school computer project, in which he needs to construct a family tree. Not knowing much beyond his dad's and "other" gran's names, he's stuck with my side of the tree, and had to go back just as far as my parents.

My mom took down as much as her mom and my dad's mom could remember of our ancestry a few years ago, and it holds some fascinating stuff.

For instance, one of my ancestors was the Burgoyne (mom's maiden name) that managed to lose the battle of Saratoga. Many of that line were seafaring chaps, leading me to wonder what kind of mixed blood we may possess after the women in every port tradition.... On the Bainbridge side (dad's), there's rumours of a link to the surname Green and a castle in Cornwall - if only someone had decided to leave it to me! :)

I find it fascinating to delve into one's family history and discover the stories of the ancients. You never know what you'll turn up that somehow shows itself in your personality or looks! For instance, I'm the only one with blue eyes on both sides of the family, back up to a single great-great-grandfather. Yeah, I know - recessive gene and all that, but one can't help one's DNA.

Here in South Africa attics are not commonplace. We read about them in American stories mostly. But I've always wished we had one - an attic in an old family home, piled high with the relics of the past. Exploring it would be a bit like unravelling the family tree, dusting off the branches and diving into the past. That would be too cool to do!

Jen wrote recently about remembering where you came from, your roots and what had made you who you are today. Perhaps discovering your family tree has something to do with that.

Or perhaps, more simply, it's just taking time to remember the real you that all to often wears a tarnished veneer as life rushes by.